


Anybody But You Would Be Better

by pinegreenapples



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Techie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinegreenapples/pseuds/pinegreenapples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco works in Tech crew and this year his school is putting on the Addam's family. He's super excited until a certain asshole is learned to be running sound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So for this fic I drew heavily on my own experience as a Techie because I feel like Cisco would totally be a Techie in High School too. That being said, a lot of the stuff I say may sound a little strange so I compiled a list of words and their definitions. If you find any words not on this list that you don't know, just tell me and I'll add them.

Cage- This is the area where all the tools are kept. i.e. paintbrushes, impact drivers, exacto knives, handheld saws, etc.

  
Impact- An electrically powered screw driver, not to be confused with a drill. Drills are much bigger and don’t screw as well.

  
Booth- This is where the sound and lighting board are. It is at the back of the auditorium and has a passageway which leads to the catwalks.

  
Catwalks- the small pathways above the audience where all the spotlights are kept. Two people get to stand up there and just put spotlights on the actors during the wholes show.

 

Gaff tape- Black tape that is used for taping edges, white spots on black shoes, and various other things around the booth.

 

Spike tape- Tape that comes in a variety of neon colors that is used to mark spots where the set pieces go.

 

Two by Fours- pieces of wood that come in eight foot strips. Used for basically everything. Actual dimensions are 1 and 3/4 of an inch by 3 and 3/4 of an inch. Don't ask why it's that way, it just is.

 

Luan- Incredibly thin wood that has a polished finish to look like actual hard wood. Mostly used for walls and other surfaces that need to be smooth but don't support weight.

 

Comm/Comm set- Stage managers and people in the catwalks working spotlights both get communication devices so that if something goes wrong they can fix it right away.

 

Island- The table that sits in the middle of the shop. It usually has scrap wood and paint cans sitting on it.

 

Tech Week- the week of the show. All the cast, tech crew, and put orchestra must stay until nine or ten at night. The only plus is you get fed for your work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, don't hesitate to ask questions about Techie terms, we're very little known people.

Cisco had had a long day. From the moment his alarm didn’t go off to the new group project in History that Cisco would probably end up doing by himself, it had been rough. It also probably didn’t help that Cisco had Physics eighth period along with the biggest asshole in the school, Hartley Rathaway. Cisco felt himself fume at the thought of that jerk. Ugh, he couldn’t stand Hartley! The man was such an uptight, smug dick who loved nothing more than being the only genius in the room and rubbing it in people’s faces.

  
Cisco tried to calm himself down with a few deep breaths as he made his way towards the music wing. None of that mattered now, Cisco had tech. He smiled at that, tech was the one thing Hartley couldn’t corrupt with his dickish behavior. After all, not even Hartley could ruin the feel of properly screwing something together or cutting a piece of wood exactly.

  
Cisco reached the door and threw it open. Just in front of the cage all of his friends sat, talking animatedly. Barry looked up and caught sight of him.  
“Cisco! Hey, man!” He got up from his stool and tried to run over to greet Cisco but his foot caught in the rungs and he tripped. He popped back up, face bright red.

  
“Whoops.” He muttered, and Cisco laughed.

  
“Gotta watch those rungs, man. Or at least only use the rolly chairs.” He walked over and clapped Barry on the back.

  
“Is Miss Nickleson here yet?” He looked around, waiting for her to magically appear.

  
“Not yet, and Caitlin says we can’t pick the lock again.”

  
Cisco gasped in mock outrage, “Caitlin! How could you? We have things to screw, wood to measure, sets to build! However will we finish if we don’t pick the lock?” He stared off into the distance, his face exaggeratedly distraught and a hand raised to his forehead.

  
Caitlin rolled her eyes at him while the rest of the group all chuckled.

  
“We are not picking the lock, I don’t want to get yelled at again. Besides Miss Nickleson will be here in a few minutes.” She turned back to her Calc homework, tapping away at her calculator.

  
Barry pulled an extra stool over to the malformed circle of sorts they had formed and patted the seat before sitting back down on his own stool. Cisco shucked off his backpack and sat down.

  
“Did we finish the design for the crypt gate? If not, I have a couple of ideas for the spikes.”

  
Barry laughed. “When in doubt,-” Cisco grinned back before finishing the sentence, “Foam!” The two burst into giggles.

  
“What’s got you two laughing?” Miss Nickleson’s smooth voice slipped into the room as she ambled in. She had a good natured smile on her face as she pulled off her lanyard and unlocked the cage.

  
“Nothing much,” Barry replied, “Just talking about the versatility of foam.”

  
Miss Nickleson gave a soft snort before she pulled out the To Do list in the cage.

  
“Alright, today we’re gonna finish painting the all the brown with highlights and lowlights, if we can, and we’re gonna build the entrance gates. If we still have time, then we can build the crypt gate and start brainstorming how we want the torture rack to look. Sound good?” A chorus of yeahs answered her. “Good. Now, who are gonna be my painters?

Caitlin, Ronnie, Felicity, and Thea all rose their hands. Miss Nickleson gave a thumbs up and the newly designated painters split up, two to the paint cabinet and two to the cage for brushes. She turned and looked at the four remaining members.

  
“Entrance gates?” Cisco, Barry, Laurel, and Oliver all nodded. Miss Nickleson gave them a thumbs up too before walking into the cage. The four of them followed her, Oliver and Laurel grabbed impacts while Barry and Cisco grabbed measuring tapes and pencils.

  
“Alright, we have the wood cut out for one of the gates’ columns but we still have to cut the strips for the actual gates themselves and the columns for the other gate.” Miss Nickleson handed Cisco a piece of wood that had measurements scribbled on it.

  
“Cool.” Barry nodded and the two of them walked out of the cage and towards the two by four scrap pile. Barry took out some of the longer pieces as Cisco consulted the list of measurements.

  
“Ok, so we need four ten inch pieces and five eight inch pieces.” He dropped the piece of wood on the nearest stool and started measuring out the wood alongside Barry. The two of them worked for about twenty minutes, switching off measuring and cutting when Thea yelled over to them.

  
“Hey, can one of you get me Gaff tape?”  
Cisco stood from his crouched position and frowned at her. “Why do you need Gaff tape?”

  
“Because we’re taping the edges and this is the last roll of masking tape.” She dangled a cardboard ring from her index finger.

  
“Sure,” Cisco shrugged, “Is it up in the booth?”

  
Thea nodded and Cisco started towards the stage doors.

  
“Thank you!” Thea yelled as he pulled open the door.

  
Cisco walked across the stage and hopped over the little rail separating the audience from the pit. He jogged up to the entrance to the booth and opened the door. The lights were already on. Jessica must be here, Cisco mused before calling out, “Hey Jess?” He jogged up to ramp and rounded to corner to find Hartley Rathaway in the doorway to the booth.

  
“What the hell are you doing here?” Cisco was flabbergasted. There was no way in hell this was happening, nope, Hartley was not going to fuck up the best part of his day.

  
Hartley raised an eyebrow. “Jessica broke her collarbone over the weekend. She asked me fill in for sound since she won’t be back in time for the show."

   
Cisco raised his hands in front of him and frowned, he shook his head slightly.

  
“I’m sorry, you work sound? Since when?” Fuck, Cisco couldn’t process this at all.

  
“Last year. I mostly do the concerts and other events. Jessica loves the shows too much to ever give them up to me.” He turned towards the booth, “Was there something you needed, Cisquito?"

  
It was obvious he was being dismissed. Cisco clenched his teeth.

  
“Thea needed Gaff tape.” He ground out.  
Hartley smirked in response and reached over to grab the roll off the table. He handed it to Cisco mock delicately and then stepped fully back into the booth, letting the door shut behind him.

  
Cisco seethed at Hartley and his blatant disregard. He felt like he had storm cloud above his head as he stomped back to the shop, muttering obscenities. When Cisco got back, Barry took one look at him before asking, “Booth locked again?”  
“Worse.” Cisco bit out. “Hartley was there.” Barry looked just as confused as he was, but without the burning hatred mixed in.

  
“Hartley? I didn’t know he did shows.”  
“Neither did I. THEA!” As the brunette looked over, Cisco waved the Gaff tape. She fist pumped and then made a motion like bowling. Cisco got the hint and rolled the tape along the ground. It ended up rolling into the island but Thea walked over and grabbed it, mouthing a thank you.

  
Barry held out four pieces of two by four to Cisco. “Wanna go cut this wood while I grab the luan and measure out the rest of the columns?” Cisco took the pieces but narrowed his eyes at Barry.

  
“Is this supposed to be some catharsis or something? Cutting wood’s supposed to help me be less mad or something?”

  
Barry shrugged, “It can’t hurt.” Cisco scoffed before heading to the saw.

  
When he was done he most definitely did not feel better, despite Barry insisting otherwise.

 

***

  
For the most part, Cisco didn’t see Hartley during tech due to the fact that Hartley really only worked in the booth, but there was always that possibility that made him tense up. If it was possible, Hartley was even more smug during class. He was acting as if he knew some big secret and it irritated Cisco since Hartley had tighter lips than Oliver, which was like, nearly impossible. As Tech Week drew closer, Cisco swore Hartley had stretched what Cisco had thought was the limit in egotism at least double. It had gotten to the point where Cisco ended up bitching every day during lunch to Barry about the fact that he had to spend a whole period with “That Smug Asshole” and if he had to spend one more day with him, he’d snap. Barry was always sympathetic and tried to provide solutions that didn’t involve murder but so far they hadn’t come up with any award winning pranks.

 

***

  
On the Monday of Tech Week, Cisco was a mess. He was jittery and could barely concentrate. Which was a serious problem seeing as he was the Stage Left Manager. He kinda needed to keep a cool head. Hartley, for once, was able to look past his own nose and noticed that Cisco’s nerves were shot. He didn’t hear a peep out of Hartley the entire period and if the anxiety didn’t give him a heart attack, the shock certainly would. All Cisco remembered of lunch of that day was that it involved a lot of angry babbling and soothing backrubs from Barry as he tried to get his shit together.

 

***

 

The practice went terribly. So many things went wrong. Cisco felt himself panic on the inside as the torture rack got caught on the curtain. His nerves couldn’t catch a break as the mancave was pulled on in full lights due to a brake malfunction. And then the fog machine was set too soon so the entrance gates ended up going on in full lights as well. By the end Cisco was taking the deepest breaths possible in an effort to calm himself.

  
“At least it’s not an actual show.” He muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. After a few minutes he decided to make his way over to Felicity to give her back his comm. Felicity wasn’t at the mic table but Hartley was and Cisco really didn’t need any snide remarks right now. He took off his comm and set it down on the table as quickly as possible and began speed walking away.

  
“Cisco, wait!” Hartley was standing with one hand braced on the table, looking like he wanted to walk closer to Cisco but unsure as if that would be okay. “It’s not your fault, you know that, right? All of those things that happened were technical problems we can fix before opening night. You’re a good Stage Manager.” For once, his voice was soft and genuine. Cisco stared at him in complete shock.

  
“What?”

  
Hartley shifted. “I said-”

  
“No, no, I heard you but did you actually say something nice to me? Are you feeling okay? You’re not sick are you?” At this point Hartley was beginning to look like his old self as irritation overtook his expression.

  
“Forget I said anything, clearly you can’t take a compliment, Cisquito. Tell Felicity I’ll be in the booth trying to figure out why Pugsley’s mic cut out during the dinner scene.” With that he walked away brusquely.

Cisco stood in shock for a few minutes before the sound of the shop vacuum startled him out of his stupor.

 

***

  
All of Tuesday, Cisco couldn’t stop thinking about what Hartley had said. What was he playing at? Was this some attempt at a joke? For the life of him, Cisco couldn’t figure it out. At the very least, it did help him with his anxiety. Who knew, Hartley was actually good for something once.

 

***

  
The show went well, most of the snags of Monday were ironed out. The only problem was again the stupid torture rack getting stuck on the curtain. They’d put spike down in the hope that it might help but then they couldn’t find the spike. Cisco still wasn’t sure how they could fix that problem.

  
‘When Cisco walked over to the mic table to give his comm back again, he found Felicity cataloging the packs and Hartley chewing out an actor for letting his tape get wrapped around the mic cord.  
“Feeling better now, Hartley? Haven’t seen you this cheery since Friday.” Hartley’s head whipped around to fix Cisco with a glare. Seeing his opportunity, the actor fled to the change rooms like his life depended on it. Felicity stifled a giggle behind her hand before she took Cisco’s comm from him and replaced it’s batteries for tomorrow.

Throughout the entire exchange, Hartley never retorted to Cisco’s taunt, even as Cisco looked at him expectantly he didn’t say a word.

  
As Cisco walked away, he felt utter shock for the second time in as many days because of Hartley Rathaway.

 

***

  
On Wednesday, Cisco began to feel antsy again. It was the last practice before opening night. He never felt ready, no matter how smoothly everything went. He spent most of the day trying to pay attention but his thoughts just weren’t interested in the finer points of the Vietnam war. Instead, they kept drifting to either the show and that damn curtain or Hartley and weird behavior. He still couldn’t figure that out. Why was Hartley being so nice to him all of a sudden? It made no sense.

  
A piece of paper smacked Cisco’s forehead and he looked up to see Mr. Knowlton poised in an exaggerated pitcher’s position ready to throw another piece of paper.

  
“Don’t suppose you know the main cause for the Vietnam war, do you Cisco?” Mr. Knowlton straightened out of his pose and placed the piece of paper on his desk. Cisco ducked his head and blushed.

  
“The Cold War?”

  
“Ehh, close enough.” Mr. Knowlton continued on with his discussion and Cisco went back to thinking about the upcoming show.

 

***

  
Wednesday’s practice was perfect except for that ridiculous curtain. Cisco swore he was going to get that torture rack on the spike if his life depended on it.

 

***

 

On Thursday, Cisco was practically vibrating he was so anxious. Opening night was the worst as far as he was concerned. It almost never went as well as the other two nights and often felt like a really terrible practice that a few stay at home moms had come to see because they had nothing better to do with their lives.

  
Hartley was oddly silent again in physics and he kept glancing at Cisco with a peculiar face that Cisco couldn’t place emotionally.

  
The only nice thing about opening night, Cisco thought, was the fact that you got to go home for four hours instead of staying at school until nine every night and praying you got your homework done before class started. Cisco spent a solid hour playing Batman: Arkham Asylum. Not the best use of his time, admittedly, but he needed the stress relief, his shoulder was killing him.

  
Surprisingly, opening night went almost perfectly. Again, the snafu with the curtain, but he had a solution for that, and there was a problem on Barry’s side with the bed getting caught in the hallway but that wasn’t his problem.  
Just like the last three nights, Hartley was at the mic table helping Felicity properly put them away. This time when Cisco walked up, Hartley didn’t look at him, instead he told the table, “You did good tonight.” His tone was almost begrudging. Cisco snorted.

  
“Thanks.” He handed back the comm set and walked back out onto the stage to check up on the glitter control. He didn’t want the glitter to fly everywhere like last time when Thea had thought it would be a good idea to blow the glitter instead of vacuum the glitter.

 

***

  
Friday’s show finally got the torture rack in place with a little help from a few flashlights. This time. Hartley wasn’t at the table when he walked over. As he gave his comm set to Felicity, he asked if she knew where Hartley was and she shrugged.

  
“Huh.” Cisco murmured. It was almost weird in a way to not have Hartley there complaining about actors and giving him begrudging compliments.

  
“Do you want me to tell him you were looking for him?” Felicity asked, eyes sharp.

  
“Nah, it’s fine, I was just curious is all.” Cisco shrugged and walked away. He’d never admit it, but he kinda felt...disappointed as he made his way over to the fog machine and checked that it had enough dry ice.

 

***

  
The show on Saturday was damn near perfect and Cisco couldn’t help but let out an excited whoop after the curtain closed. He rushed over to stage right to hug Barry and congratulate everyone on another show well done. On his way over, Cisco ran quite literally into Hartley and the two of them ended up grasping each other’s forearms to balance. As Cisco looked up to apologize, he saw something akin to apprehension before Hartley’s mouth met his. Cisco stood stiff as Hartley kissed him lightly, his eyes wider than saucers. As Hartley broke away and searched his face, his slightly vulnerable expression soured before he muttered something about the booth and nearly ran off the stage. Cisco was still frozen to the spot for a good solid minute while he tried to process the latest shock brought to him by Hartley Rathaway. He needed to talk to Hartley.

  
Cisco ran through the auditorium towards the booth and pulled open the door. He made his up the ramp and found Hartley fiddling with the settings on the sound board. He swung the door open and stepped out next to Hartley.

  
“Hey.” He said. Hartley didn’t turn to look at him. Cisco laughed nervously before continuing. “Look, Hartley, I didn’t know that you liked me until like two minutes ago. Honestly, I thought you hated me. So it was kind of a shock when you kissed me?” Cisco gave a weak chuckle. “Up until two minutes ago I kinda also thought I hated you too. Now, I’m not so sure.” Cisco stared at Hartley, trying to gauge a reaction as the man continued to press buttons on the sound board.

  
“Well,” Hartley said, “If that’s your idea of a declaration of love then I’m afraid I’m not impressed.”

  
Cisco smiled at that. “I’m an engineer, not a poet.” He protested.

  
Hartley hummed sarcastically before spinning to face Cisco.

  
“Next Friday, six o’ clock sharp. Meet me at Jitters and don’t you dare be late.”

  
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
